


Broken Boy Blues

by lostmagician



Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series), Karate Kid (Movies)
Genre: Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Underage Drinking, Unrequited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:00:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27068296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostmagician/pseuds/lostmagician
Summary: After a rough night at home, Johnny drives to the only place he can think of. The one that offers him comfort and solace.The story is set in a world where soulmates exist.
Relationships: Bobby Brown/Johnny Lawrence
Comments: 16
Kudos: 67





	Broken Boy Blues

**Author's Note:**

> Is this really me climbing aboard the Bonny ship? I have no idea if others are interested in this pairing, but if you are, I hope you enjoy this short angsty piece.

Johnny rolled in front of the house, and turned off the engine. He didn’t like that he always ended up here, but he didn’t know where else to go.

There was a light in the living room, shadows moving around behind closed curtains. Johnny watched them, as he rummaged under his seat for the flask that he’d swiped from Sid’s office. He took a large swig and made a face as the liquid burned down his throat. It was enough to distract him from the aching pain in his face. He took another swig and screwed the flask shut, stowing it back under the seat.

He didn’t know how long he waited. It could have been five minutes, maybe twenty, but eventually the lights turned off, signaling that Bobby’s parents had gone to bed. Johnny waited a while longer to make sure they didn’t linger, before climbing out of the car. His head spun as he walked toward the house, but he didn’t let it slow him down. He picked up a few stones from the flower beds, rolling them in the palm of his hand.

_Here goes nothing,_ he told himself.

He pulled his arm back and aimed for a window on the second floor. It made a small _ting_ , bouncing off the glass. He waited a few seconds. When no answer came, he threw another stone, then another. Just as he was about to aim again, he saw the curtain moving and dropped his arm. The window slotted open and a shaggy head came out.

“Johnny?” Bobby asked, his quiet voice ringing clearly in the silence of the night. He scanned around. “Wait, I’m coming down.”

Johnny dropped the rest of the stones on the grass, and stuffed his hands in his pocket. It was chilly at this time of night, the cold breeze seeping through his thin hoodie. After a moment, he heard the unmistakable sound of the lock turning. He headed for the front door just as it opened.

Bobby stood at the entrance, dressed in pajama pants and a t-shirt.

“Hey,” Bobby said, glancing over Johnny uncertainly. “Everything okay?”

Johnny had thought the alcohol would take the edge off, but his throat still closed up at the question. He scuffed his foot against the ground.

“Yeah. Mind if I stay over?”

“Of course,” Bobby said, opening the door wider. “I didn’t mean anything. Come in.”

Johnny nodded and stepped inside. He looked around, as the door closed behind him. Bobby’s house was bigger than Johnny’s, high ceilings and veneered walls. There was a soft light emanating from the hallway upstairs. Bobby turned toward him.

“My parents are sleeping, so we have to be—” He broke off at the sight of Johnny’s face. His jaw went slack and he grabbed Johnny by the chin. “What is this?

“Nothing,” Johnny said. He tried to move his face away, but Bobby only tightened his grip. Up close, he could see the flecks of black in Bobby’s eyes, could feel Bobby’s hot breath against his chin. He watched as Bobby’s frown deepened. Before he knew it, Bobby was leaning closer and sniffing him.

“Have you been drinking?” Bobby asked in a harder voice.

Johnny’s head started hurting.

_I shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t have, I shouldn_ _’t have._

“Maybe,” Johnny croaked.

“Maybe?” Bobby repeated in disbelief. He released Johnny and leaned back as though to stare out the window. “Let me guess, you were maybe driving as well?”

Johnny’s silence was answer enough. Bobby raised a hand to check Johnny’s bruise again, turning his face toward the light. Johnny let himself be handled. It felt good to have someone take care of him—or so he thought until a finger brushed against his temple, making him hiss. Bobby made an apologetic face, and let go.

“What happened?” Bobby said, dropping his hands to his sides.

Johnny licked his lips, and Bobby’s gaze dropped a second, before going back up.

“I called Sid an asshole,” Johnny said.

Bobby stared at him for a beat, before sighing. “Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know,” Johnny said, suddenly defensive. “He was talking shit to me, and I didn’t wanna hear him anymore.”

Bobby raised his hands in a placating gesture. “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just…” He shook his head, his shaggy hair moving with him. “Johnny, it’s the second time it happens this month.”

Johnny’s stomach twisted.

“What are you saying?”

“We can’t let him get away with this,” Bobby said, looking more determined. “What he’s doing is not normal. I need to tell my parents.”

And then Bobby was actually turning around. Johnny almost jumped out of his skin. He lunged forward, and grabbed Bobby by the front of his shirt.

“No, no, no.”

“Johnny—”

“Please, not now,” Johnny said desperately. “We can talk about it tomorrow.”

“No. This has to end now.”

“Bobby, please—”

“You have a black eye,” Bobby cut him off with a hard whisper.

Johnny knew that the anger wasn’t directed at him, but it still hurt to hear that tone. He never wanted Bobby to be angry with him. He took a deep breath, then another.

“Please,” Johnny said, and he couldn’t help the way his voice cracked.

Bobby’s eyes darted all over his face, and Johnny tried to plead with his eyes.

_Please don’t do this._

They stared at each other. After a long moment, Bobby’s shoulders sagged. Johnny released him, and Bobby ran a hand back and forth through his hair. “Go upstairs. I’ll get you an ice pack.”

Johnny took a step back. He knew that Bobby wasn’t going to do anything behind his back, but he felt so raw, so vulnerable. He needed the extra reassurance. Bobby’s eyes went soft, and he touched Johnny’s elbow.

“Don’t worry about it. I won’t do anything without talking to you first.”

All at once, Johnny felt the tension leave his body. He nodded, and after a few false starts, turned around and headed upstairs. He’d been here enough times that he could find Bobby’s room with his eyes closed. It was the first door on the right, far away from his parents at the end of the hall.

His chest tightened when he entered the room. It seemed like Bobby had been ready to go to sleep. His side of the bed was rumpled, and the only lights in the room came from the lamp on his nightstand, and the television playing silently in the corner of the room.

Johnny walked inside and sat at the foot of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He let his eyes roam over Bobby’s things: the Star Wars posters, the messy desk, the dark brown guitar. He frowned when his eyes landed on a book, lying face down on the bed sheets.

He leaned forward and picked it up. His stomach twisted when he read the title: _The True Nature of Soulmates, Vol. 1._ The cover was a picture of two bodies intertwined, a woman and a man by the looks of it. You couldn’t tell where one body started and the other ended.

He heard the sound of muffled footsteps, and looked up just in time to see Bobby enter the room.

“You believe in this shit?” Johnny asked, raising the book and throwing it back on the bed.

“Of course, I do,” Bobby said, sitting down next to him. He handed Johnny the ice pack. “Don’t you?”

Johnny shrugged and leaned forward on his elbows, pressing the pack to his eye. “Don’t know. Having your soulmate’s name tattooed on your wrist? Sounds too good to be true.”

“2% of the population has it,” Bobby said, like he wasn’t sure why Johnny was so skeptical. “It’s been proven.” When Johnny shrugged, Bobby rolled his eyes. “Come on, you watched the documentary in biology class.”

“I just don’t understand what’s so special about having someone picked out for you,” Johnny said, and God—he really needed to stop talking. “What happened to finding someone the good old-fashioned way?”

“I mean, people who have soulmates can still look elsewhere,” Bobby said, getting up and rummaging through his drawer. “But they’ll always feel like something is missing inside of them. If you ask me, staying with a soulmate is the smart thing to do.”

Johnny was so absorbed by what he was saying that he didn’t notice Bobby come back with pajama pants and a shirt.

“No, it’s fine,” Johnny said, shaking his head. “I can sleep in my clothes.”

Bobby pushed the clothes into his hands. “Come on, you’ll be more comfortable this way. You can change in the bathroom.”

Johnny worked his jaw back and forth. After a moment, he took the offered clothes, and got to his feet. There was no use in fighting Bobby: Johnny was powerless to say no, anyway.

He opened the door quietly, and went to the bathroom down the hall. Now that he was here, he could feel the exhaustion settle deep inside his bones. He turned on the light, squinting at the fluorescent light, and dropped the clothes on the toilet seat. Then, he leaned forward with his hands on either side of the sink and examined his reflection.

The bruise was worse than he’d thought, a smattering of deep red around his eye. He straightened his back and traced a finger under his jaw, where another bruise was forming. Good thing Bobby hadn’t noticed that one. He would have lost it if he’d known that Sid had punched Johnny twice.

He didn’t know what had taken hold of him. One second, Sid was lecturing him about his grades _(—always with the bad report cards boy, did you hit your head or are you just defective—)_ and it wasn’t even the worst thing Sid had ever said, but in that moment, Johnny had snapped. He’d gone up to Sid’s face, and spit out the words before he could control himself. _Asshole_ was only the tip of the iceberg.

Johnny shook his head at the memory, and washed his hands. There was no use mulling it over. Tomorrow morning, his mother was going to find out what had happened and ground him for an entire week. It’s the way it always went. Johnny slipped off his shoes, and changed into the pajamas that Bobby had given him. The pants reached above his ankles, and the shirt was snug around his chest, but it didn’t matter. Johnny quickly slipped on his hoodie, and hung the rest of his clothes behind the door.

When he returned to the bedroom, Bobby was leaning back against the headboard with his legs stretched in front of him. He was still reading the damn book.

Johnny held back a sigh. He climbed into bed, and pulled the cover up to his chest, settling in. It was big enough that there were still two feet between them.

He let his eyes travel to the television, where Police Academy was playing on mute. It was the scene where Mahoney and Lieutenant Harris were talking in the office, right after the exams. It was Johnny’s favorite part, and usually the moment he made an obnoxious attempt to recite the dialog from memory.

But he couldn’t, not when Bobby’s words were still swirling in his mind. It didn’t help that the alcohol was finally having an effect on him.

“What about those who don’t have a name on their wrist?” Johnny asked, and Bobby frowned in his direction. “Does that mean they’ll never find their soulmate?”

“No,” Bobby said, glancing down at his own wrist. It was smooth and pale in the soft light of the room. “No, it just means they have to do things differently.”

“Different how?”

“Well, it’s more work. There are more questions to be asked. Is the person you’re dating the one? Are they not? That sort of thing.”

“So, you’d never believe someone was your soulmate unless their name was on your wrist?”

“I mean, we could still be good together. But being real soulmates, that’s a whole other story.”

“So, you’re not worried that…”

Bobby looked at him. “That what? That I’ll never find someone?” He smiled, when Johnny nodded. “Nah. I’m sure I’ll find the right girl some day.”

And just like that, Johnny’s chest tightened, making it harder to breathe. It was so stupid, they were just _words—_ but the effect was like a punch in the gut.

“Hey,” Bobby said, closing the book. There was a worried crease between his eyebrows. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”

He reached for Johnny’s wrist, and Johnny snatched his hand away. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You look like you’re going to ralph.”

“I said I’m fine,” Johnny snapped, making Bobby jerk back. He forced his face to relax. “It’s just the alcohol getting to my head.”

Bobby bit his lip, but didn’t say anything else.

“We should sleep,” Johnny said, trying to sound normal. “We have PE in the morning.”

It was obvious that Bobby didn’t want to let go of the subject, but he nodded anyway.

“Yeah, okay.”

He didn’t wait for Bobby to say good night. He just turned over in bed, putting his back to him. After a few moments, Bobby turned off the television, the light, and went to sleep as well.

Johnny closed his eyes and waited. He waited for Bobby to stop moving and for the sound of his breathing to slow down. When he was sure that Bobby had gone to sleep, he opened his eyes again.

He thought about what Bobby had said about soulmates. It didn’t mean anything. Just because a person didn’t have a name on their wrist, didn’t mean they didn’t have a soulmate. Isn’t that what the biology teacher had said?

_The human body isn’t perfect._

Johnny clung to those words. It was the only way he could explain what was going on. He’d thought he could ignore it, that it was only a matter of time until his name appeared on his best friend’s wrist but—with a careful finger, Johnny pulled down the sleeve of his hoodie, and watched the way the name glistened in the moonlight.

_Bobby Brown._

Maybe he was defective after all.


End file.
